JD Cagulangan is angry. If you’ve been watching his games for the past couple of years, I’m sure you’re familiar with that look. He kind of tilts his head in frustration, then looks up in disgust. He just missed two straight shots from the right baseline, a midrange fadeaway off a curl. Both fell short, clanking the side of the rim. He tries again. Clank. JD stomps his feet. He walks outside to the three-point line, curls again towards the right baseline, and fades away for the jumper. Ball rims out. He lets out an agonizing “uuggghh” that echoes across the gym. He tries again; misses again. Disgust turns to disbelief. He slumps into an empty monobloc chair – as if benching himself for missing five consecutive shots. 

JD Cagulangan has been a hooper since he was a kid. Maimai to everyone else, a headache to anyone guarding him. From dominating open courts way down south of the country to controlling the vibe of iconic gyms in the heart of Philippine basketball. From knocking down two clutch, title-clinching free throws for his high school team to knocking down two clutch, game-deciding 3s at the SLAM Rising Stars Classic. He’s always been that guy, that basketball hero. 

Then he got benched.

A stacked De La Salle Green Archers backcourt prevented him from playing the hero minutes he’s accustomed to. From being that guy to being that guy at the end of the bench. Four games with the Archers and JD’s stats were forgettable. His stint, unremarkable.  

“‘Yung nangyari sa ‘kin sa La Salle, dun ko na-realize na hindi lahat ibibigay sa’yo ng Diyos na ganun kadali,” JD says. 

“Nabigla ako na parang, ‘Oh, God. Ito ‘yung buhay. Ito ‘yung realidad ng mundo.”

When things are not going your way, what’s the move?

“‘Yung mindset ko non, hindi matatapos ‘yung college career ko na ganito,” he says. “Imbes na iiyak-iyak ako, i-trabaho ko nalang.”

JD gets up from the chair, from his self-imposed timeout, from his meditation or prayer or trance or wherever it was he went to for a good minute and a half. He curls again from the 3 to the right baseline for a fadeaway jumper. Swish. Does it again. Swish again. For a third time, he curls, gets to his spot, and fades away. Swish. He pumps his fist, his face breaking into a big smile – as if he just hit a go-ahead basket in front of 20,000 people, not five.

The rim at UP Varsity Training Center is usually at peace this time of the year, but JD is keeping it warm and busy. It’s the first Sunday of 2025, the sleepiest, slowest Sunday before everyone gets back on track. The final Sunday of rest. Not for JD. Not when he’s just days away from getting on a plane to fly out to Korea. He’s here simulating game situations. It’s in these sessions where he choreographs his movements and rehearses historic moments. That 3 versus Ateneo in Season 84? He manifested that into existence. 

In his dream scenario, it was SJ Belangel guarding him. Five seconds left, ball up top. He counted it down with his training coach Patrick Tancioco. 5, 4, 3, 2, 1. Cash! Money! We’re champions, they’d imagine, acting out the shining moment. 

“Nakakatuwa lang na nangyari siya,” JD says.

“There’s a funny story after that championship. Sabi sa akin ng Papa ko, ‘Magpa-draft ka na!’ Sabi ko, ‘Bakit? Maaga pa. Dito muna ako sa UP,” he says.

That’s both the gift and the curse of the Filipino college superstar. Be good and stay long enough to be crowned King [insert school monicker here]. Be too good and it’s a clear path to either the PBA or NAIA.

The potential and promise of a four-peat made JD stay. The UP Fighting Maroons were built for that. JD was certainly made for that. He who lives for the grind. He who won’t take no for an answer. He who always got something to prove – whether or not it matters to 20,000 or five. It matters to him.

The pursuit of back-to-back started as soon as the ashes from the bonfire were swept away. In basketball (and in any other thing all humans do), you’re only as good as your last performance.

“After ng championship, makikilala ka lang naman ng tao for one month. Then after that, panibagong season na naman. Wala na,” JD says.

“‘Yung point is kung paano mo ma-sustain, paano ka maka-stay nandun sa taas.”

A lot happened after reaching the top, JD says. The noise, once just steady and ambient, became a backing track. Some personal turmoil. Then the nagging injuries.

“Sinusubok talaga ako. ‘Kaya mo ba?’” he says.

Despite all that, JD – as the starting point guard and de facto leader – commandeered the Fighting Maroons to another finals appearance in Season 85. They dragged an out-for-revenge Ange Kouame to the deep waters of Game 3. No JD Cagulangan heroics that time. They would try again in Season 86, getting another Game 3 and another shot at the title. To add spice: it was against the team that JD left for UP. Retribution wasn’t on the agenda though, JD is quick to point out. Losing to Ateneo the year before was more than enough motivation. 

“Hindi siya about La Salle. Gusto ko lang bumawi. Gusto ko makakuha ulit ng championship,” he says.

When you’re consumed by a deep hunger for greatness, there’s no room for bitterness. His high school coach, Marvin Bienvenida, gets credit for helping JD sift through the emotional layers of the transfer and the inevitable “revenge game.” The very institution that molded him to be the man that he is, instilled with him the core values to be who he is – he keeps that dear to his heart. He’s not conflicted.

“Galing akong GH eh,” he says. 

His former Greenies teammate, Joshua David, now sits on the other side. Or rather fills in the spaces where JD could’ve been. They were backcourt partners in La Salle Greenhills, the best of friends through and through. They’re on different paths now. After Season 86, they can be both called UAAP champions, albeit in different timelines and alma maters. JD had 84, David had 86.

Back-to-back finals losses can prompt people into asking the difficult questions. What if Season 84 was a fluke? What if that was a one-time thing? Can UP win without Carl Tamayo? Have we seen the peak of JD Cagulangan?

“Dun ako nagising,” he says. “Hindi pwede ‘yung ganito.”

JD is working on his midrange. In game-speed, he uses imaginary screens and pulls up for a jumper, again and again. No extra movements. Calculated steps. For every JD Cagulangan highlight, it’s easy to forget that two hours of daily grueling work went into that one specific move. Since January last year, he’s been in the lab with either Coach Pat or Coach Paul Bordador of Better Basketball, building on a routine that’s borderline madness. It was as if he was sentenced to one year of extra work. In this case, JD is judge, plaintiff, and defendant. The crime? Doubting his ability to get the job done.

“Gusto ko ‘yung magsisi sila na bakit nila ginawa ‘yung ganon or bakit nila sinabi ‘yung ganon. ‘Yun ‘yung motivation ko,” he says. “Gusto ko patunayan na kaya pa i-improve ‘yung laro ng isang JD Cagulangan.”

It started with 6AM sessions. Like a madman sharpening his axe, he was mechanical in mastering different types of fades. He was consistent in perfecting the trajectory of his floaters. He added these to his workouts with the intention of using them in Season 87, his last shot at a UAAP title. He fine-tuned his craft, obsessed over the tiniest details of off-the-catch reads, ball screen options for drop coverage, ball screen options for hard show coverage, ball screen options for under coverage, transition options, isolation 3, isolation mid-range, and so on.

There was a stretch where JD was doing this every morning, five times a week. 

“Iba ‘yung kapag focused ka sa isang bagay. Walang ibang umiikot sa utak mo kung hindi ito,” he says. 

The whole team rests after stretches of intense workouts. JD just wouldn’t. His shooting coach would receive late-night messages from him, setting time for the next morning, handing down the verdict: “Coach, 6AM.” “Coach, 7AM.” “Coach, 8AM.”

“Buong taon ko inantay na ‘di siya mag-message. Kaso ‘di nangyari,” Coach Pat says.

“From January until the end.” 

JD lives by the grit and grind, that was clear from the start. The best version of himself is the one who’s outworking everyone, including previous iterations of himself. Imagine trying to be better than the guy who hit a championship-winning, stepback 3 to end a 36-year title drought. As he keeps hitting jumper after jumper in his shooting drills, it becomes clearer and clearer: this is therapy. This is not a form of aggression, not an act of defiance nor punishment. He’s not maniacal about it, but methodical, just doing the work. It is both fighting for something and surrendering to the process.

Harold Alarcon, JD’s teammate since Season 84, has been witness to that; influenced by that.

“Simula rookie year namin until now, hindi nagbabago ‘yung kasipagan ni Maimai. Isa siya sa mga inspiration ko bakit nagdo-double effort din ako sa mga skills work,” he says.

“When he’s on the court, he’s really focused to perfect his craft.”

After Game 2 of the Season 87 finals, the season – and his legacy – hanging in the balance, JD’s body was tired. The wear and tear of 5AM alarms, of a year-long pursuit to get to that next level finally took its toll. He had to pause. Sit. Stop. Then go again.

“Kahit pagod ka na, laban mo pa din,” he says.

As soon as UP won Game 3, Coach Pat was one of the first on the court to hug JD. He wouldn’t let go. JD fell to the floor, on his back, and he’d stay there for a while, soaking in the moment. 

“Worth it lahat – lahat ng gising, gising na mabigat ‘yung katawan mo, may mga times na nagdo-doubt ka sa sarili mo, may mga times na hindi mo alam kung maganda ba ‘yung mangyayari sa’yo in the future…pero nilaban mo,” says JD.

“Hindi naman parang papel lang ‘yung dinaanan mo eh. May times na kutsilyo na ‘yung dinaanan mo pero inapak mo pa din, nilaban mo pa din hanggang dulo.”

He left the UAAP as a two-time champ and a Finals MVP. In his trail are lasting images from Game 3 that defined his climb: him, taking a knee to help David deal with cramps; him, lifting the UAAP championship trophy as the whole team takes his lead; him, reciprocating the love in front of the UP community; him, raising his right arm to sing the La Salle hymn one last time in front of the Lasallian community.

He went back to his hometown in Butuan after all of that. When he was there, he still couldn’t resist getting on the court. He can’t shake off the game wherever he is, whatever the day. The day after he arrives from Butuan, he’s back in UP. On this Sunday, JD’s body is recharged; his mind set for a new start. In between shooting drills, he snacks on Korea-branded biscuits. He’s working on his pull-up transition 3s now. They might come handy for those down-the-wire moments that he’s made for. He hits one three-pointer after another, all swishes. After the third make, he turns around and faces the imaginary crowd. He punches the air with his fist, reminiscent of 2022, as if he just made history. He kind of always does.

If this Sunday session is all that you’ll ever have to peek behind the curtain, it shows a glimpse, a tiny fraction of the grind. The pre-work of pushing himself to even show up has long been done. 

“Minsan kasi ‘yung problems sa buhay natin, nagbibigay talaga ng madaming realizations, mga lessons learned – ‘yun ‘yung magpapatibay talaga sa’yo. It’s up to you kung paano i-handle ‘yung problema mo, kung magpapahila ka pataas o hihilahin mo sarili mo pababa,” says JD.

“Sobrang motivated ako that [Season 87]. Siyempre gusto kong mag-champion pero gusto ko patunayan sa ibang tao na may mas kaya pa akong gawin. Every game, gusto ko talaga ibigay lahat.”  

JD Cagulangan has worked his way to a pro contract in the Korean Basketball League. He who once had to fight for his minutes just to express his game. He who once took the wheel, fearlessly, en route to making history. He who willed his mind and body to a championship. He who will now cause problems for opposing point guards in Korea. He who goes by Maimai.

He ends his two-hour session with five straight made free throws. The music stops. He gives everyone high-fives – all five of us who are in his presence. Today’s job is done, but the work continues. The grind never stops. Sundays included.

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[UAAP Photos by Tristan Tamayo, Better Basketball Photos by Roy Cabugao; Special thanks to Patrick Tancioco of Better Basketball]